Wasteland
by DarkLuminescence
Summary: Five months have passed since The 100 landed on the ground and the remaining survivors have been forced to flee into the middle of nowhere, where they come across buildings severely damaged by years of neglect and radiation. What they hope could become their next safe haven, soon reveals itself as a place of nightmares. Rated M for Violence/Gore/Sex.
1. To New Beginnings

**A/N: Hi there guys. I'm planning on this fic to be relatively long, though, it all depends on you guys and if you're even interested in reading it. Reviews make for good inspiration to keep on going, and to keep on writing longer and longer chapters. I, personally, have never done a multi chapter fic, but I believe this could be the first one, if I get good feedback from it. **

**Please note this is very much an alternate universe. I have no idea what's going to happen in the show, or where the writers are going to take us, but that's what makes for good television. It's so exciting. This first chapter mostly focuses on the world that i'm trying to create for you. It's almost like a summary of what's happened since they've landed, what choices have had to be made, who's alive and who's dead, how many are left and where they've ended up. (Sorry in advance if I killed off one of your favorites. I probably love them just as much as you do.)**

**This fic is M for mature subject matters. There will eventually be sexual content, and I plan on having a decent amount of violence/horror. It's going to be dark, but it's also going to have lots of angst, and fluff, and some smut. And I hope you guys have has much fun reading it as I am already having writing it. **

It has been five months since the one hundred were sent to the ground. Not to live, but to die… with minimal chances of survival. But they've endured, far more than any teenager ever should and with enemies hiding in every shadow, some believe it's a miracle they've made it this far. Others, like Clarke Griffin, and Bellamy Blake, know that if you want something badly enough, anything is possible. Sure, they've been through hell and back, and they've lost so much and gained not nearly enough, but even with the weight of the world on their shoulders, they keep on going and they'll do that to insure the safety of their people, because as long as there is even one person left, they are responsible for them, and they'll be damned if they let anything happen to them without putting up a fight.

It has been five months and there are only thirty-five of them left.

A benefit of experiencing a frequent amount of pain, is you learn how to manage it. There's no way around it, no way to get rid of it either — but it is possible to numb it, until it's only a slight, lingering, discomfort. Besides, in the grand scheme of things, those who are still alive don't have the luxury or time to grieve. When the Mountain Men successfully created soldiers out of grounders, there was a war. Most of the survivors from the Ark were long dead, and the majority of those who fought and lived, later died of infection and disease.

Had it not been for Clarke, the thirty-five, including herself, would be dead too. Just another cold, lifeless, body added to the piles and piles they left behind. It was her idea to run. There came a point, where she could no longer consider those they had to leave behind, but those they could _save. _Had her life been the only one in danger, she would have made different choices.

But it wasn't the time or place to consider _what ifs._ She made a decision, and she will stick to it till her dying breath. That much, she was sure of.

Bellamy, on the other hand, looked at her like he didn't recognize who was standing in front of him anymore. It had taken every ounce of his being to go against his instincts and his gut that told him he belonged in the battle field, beside the others. He was suppose to fight and die that day, but instead he ran. Like a coward.

It's not that he blamed Clarke. Part of him understood, but the other part of him was angry. At her, at himself, at every single thing that has happened, and every single thing that continues to go wrong.

One look at their people, and anyone could sense that they weren't really living these days. They were surviving, two devastatingly different things. A dangerous thought crossed his mind, that perhaps death wasn't the worst fate in store for them.

If only he had known how right he was.

Clarke kicked away a rock and watched as it skipped along the dirt. She was drenched with sweat, and dry blood, and pieces of her hair were beginning to stick to her cheeks. The steady sound of footsteps followed both Bellamy and her as they made their way through a world of nothingness. There were no trees, no plants, and certainly no animals. It almost seemed like if they kept on going, they'd eventually walk off the ends of the Earth. The sky was clear of any clouds, causing each and every one of them to feel the strength of the sun. Burns were already revealing themselves on the more fair skinned of the group — including Clarke.

Bellamy had to bite back the urge to smile when she looked up at him, nose bright red.

"What?" She scrunched her brows together, her hand lifting to her face to make sure there was nothing there (besides the bruises and the cuts she was becoming far too familiar with.)

"Nothing."

"Bellamy." His name slipped through her lips with a groan.

"Oh, I was just thinking that burn on your nose is a really good look for you. You should, uh, you should spend more time in the sun." He was laughing quietly now, and had the sound of it not been so pleasant and unfamiliar, she'd probably roll her eyes. Instead, she was sure to tuck the memory of it in the back of her mind, and even smiled a little herself.

"Yeah, well you're no prize yourself." She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one had fallen behind. Each one of them looked tired as they carried a bag made from clothes and supplies found by the Ark. They were sure to gather as much water and food as they could, but out here, with no protection from trees nor anywhere to find more drinking water, everyone was dehydrated. But they had to be careful. They needed to savour what little they had left. Which is why she left Raven and Octavia in charge of managing their water supply.

A tightness grew in the pit of Clarke's stomach, and when she looked ahead, she hoped it had been the right choice when they decided they would move forward in the land of the unknown. It had been hours, and still they had come across nothing. No sign of human life anywhere.

But at this point, there was no going back. Really, there was nothing to go back to. They weren't welcomed there. People, even friends, were turned into what could only be considered animal like. They were violent, terrifying creations, and the memory of her mother being maimed and ripped apart at the hands of someone who use to be human, made sleep an impossibility.

"You wound me, princess." Bellamy's words interrupted her thoughts, and when she looked at him, she saw he had brought his hand to his heart in mock hurt.

"Good." This time she did roll her eyes.

The two of them were thankful for the distraction the other sometimes brought, and despite the fact that they weren't nearly on the same page as much as they should be, they wouldn't have gotten this far without the other. Something they both knew and had come to cherish.

Several more hours seemed to pass them by, not that they had any way to tell time, aside from the darkness of the sky. Clarke's watch had stopped working long ago, even before she had gotten it back from Finn.

Finn. Just another name among those who were no longer with them. Finn. The first person she had made a connection with on Earth. The first boy she could have loved. Maybe even did. Not like she had much of a chance to figure it out. He was dead now, but he wasn't gone. The memory of him had itched itself into her skin, and sometimes she swore she could feel him touching her arm, or his eyes digging into her back. In her heart, she lost him long before he took his last breath. The Finn she knew and deeply cared for, died the day she closed that drop ship door. It just had taken her a while to realize it.

"Clarke." Bellamy's hand gripped the side of her arm, and she stopped walking.

In the distance a silhouette of a building appeared in front of them. Hushed whispers danced between the crowd behind them, and suddenly Raven was by her side.

"Oh my god." She breathed, and all Clarke could think to do was nod.

"You think it's safe?" Octavia asked, walking a little ahead of them.

"I think…" Bellamy met Clarke's gaze from the corner of his eyes, and waited for her nod of approval before turning to look at the others.

"I think we have no other choice but to find out."


	2. A Pain In My Everything

There was something eerie in the way the buildings surrounding them stood, half alive, and half dead, years and years of neglect and radiation having done it's damage. It was quiet, save for the sounds of footsteps and curious whispers, and Clarke was lost in the details of broken bricks and doors that barley stood. Most of the windows were smashed, and instead of glass, there was fabric blowing in the light breeze that had shown up. Some of the buildings looked a little more loved than others. There were five in total. They stood in front of the largest one, two much tinier ones sitting side by side just to it's right. The other two were behind the group, and were certainly in the worst condition.

"What do you want to do?" Bellamy watched Clarke as she looked around, an unreadable expression on her face. Usually he had a pretty good idea what she was thinking, but right now was not one of those times.

She bit her lip, while contemplating the risks of checking out these buildings. They were unfamiliar territory, and very likely unstable. They could be infested with bugs or critters of some kind, or worse— this could already be somebody else's home. That being said…they needed all the allies they could get, and even if there was no one else, the sun was beginning to set and they needed to set up camp somewhere. Who knows if the opportunity to be kept out of the open would come up again? This could be all there is out here.

"Look around." She finally said. "But first, we should create groups of five or six, and make sure each group has at least two guns."

Bellamy nodded his okay, and turned to look at the others.

"Alright, this is how it's going to go." He called out, grabbing everybody's attention. "There are five buildings, and thirty-five of us. We are going to send out groups, one to each of the smaller ones, and two to the largest one. Most groups will have six people, and at least two guns. Do not leave anybody behind. You watch each other's backs, and if you come face to face with any form of trouble, you shoot and you get the hell out of there, you hear me? The second we hear gun shots, everybody meets where we are standing right now. Safety in numbers, alright?"

"So which building should I take?" Clarke smiled lightly. There was something sweet (and attractive) in the way Bellamy took charge. There was something even sweeter (and more attractive) in the way he looked to her first.

"Oh no, we're definitely not splitting up. We'll group with Octavia, Murphy, Monty and Raven. Miller will lead one group, Wick can lead another. That leave us with three more, so, uh, Jackson, Lexa, and… "

"Bellamy, don't be ridiculous. I can handle myself, and so can the others. Raven should go with Wick, Jackson with Lexa, Miller with Monty, Octavia with you, and—" She glanced towards a smiling Murphy, and almost groaned. "And Murphy with me."

"What? No." Bellamy shook his head, and Clarke rested a hand against his chest.

"I wasn't asking permission." Her tone was serious, but her face softened when she noticed the concern in his eyes.

"I'll be careful." She promised, and perhaps it was the way she whispered it so only he could hear it, but it felt almost intimate, and left him a little more at ease.

"Okay, then." He nodded. "Stay safe."

And with that, him and Octavia and the others set off to form groups. She turned toward Murphy, an eyebrow arched.

"Please tell me you're not going to be a pain in my ass."

"Well, I can be a pain in other places, if you'd prefer." He winked and she had to bite back the urge not to gag, before shoving him lightly, and hiding a smile. She needed small moments like this, where nothing was suppose to be taken seriously. It was a rarity indeed, and from that moment on she intended on basking in them as long as she could.

When they had found four others to join them, they headed towards the farthest building, which also happened to be the smallest. The moment they entered, the sound of broken glass crunching beneath their shoes echoed against what was left of the walls. Broken furniture and other objects laid sprawled across the floor. It was dark, and dusty, and Clarke found herself, at one point, covered in spiderwebs. She peeled them away, her disgust clear in her features, Murphy laughing at her from where he stood.

"I will shoot you." She swore, and he only laughed harder.

"Here." Lizzie, a girl who was maybe fifteen or sixteen, began pulling away at the webs and Clarke smiled at her in return.

"Thanks. At least _somebody_ knows how to be polite around here." Her eyes narrowed towards Murphy, and he shrugged, a lazy smile put in place perfectly. It suited him well.

They began moving down a hallway, with Clarke now the one in lead, but Murphy remained close behind. He had really changed a lot since the first few days on Earth. It was a pleasant surprise, although she would never admit it. Okay, maybe she would _one _day. If they lived long enough.

"So, you and Bellamy." Murphy's tone seemed as though he was implying something, Clarke wasn't quite grasping.

"What about us?"

He eyed her for a moment, before shrugging.

"Nothing."

"That was definitely not a _'nothing'_ nothing, that was a _'something'_ nothing." Clarke realized how odd of a sentence that turned out to be, but she stood by her words, while looking over her shoulder at him.

"Oh, come on, Clarke. Like you don't know what everyone says about you and Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome on a daily— "

Suddenly the floor seemed to disappear beneath Clarke's feet. One second she was walking on sturdy ground, and the next she was falling. She thought she heard someone scream her name, but when her head smacked against hard stone, she was swallowed up by darkness.

/

Bellamy hated being separated from Clarke. There had come a time, where something had shifted between them, and suddenly Octavia wasn't the only one he was fiercely protective of. Yes, he knew Clarke was the right choice for leading a group, and yes it probably didn't make sense to put the best leaders all together, but those were his friends and Clarke was— something else entirely and of much more importance where his heart was concerned, but though him and Murphy were on better terms, he still didn't trust him per say, especially around Clarke, and what the fuck was that feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. Could it be? Bellamy Blake was jealous? Sure, he had felt envy throughout his life, envy for those who were much better off on the Ark than he had been, envy for those who's mother still lived and breathed— but jealousy was different. Jealousy meant the fear of losing something you already have to someone else, whereas envy was wishing you had what someone else had.

It was the first time Bellamy ever considered, that maybe a part of him believed, Clarke was his. Not in a possessive way, and he sure as hell did not see her as an object to own, but in a romantic way— like she was his other half. The one person he'd found without even realizing he was looking for her. God, what we he suppose to do with all these thoughts and feelings that seemed to devour him. There were much more important things for him to be focusing on.

Like the fact that Octavia insisted on being in the front as they searched each room. His eyes haven't left her back since and his fingers were wrapped securely around his gun, ready for anything that could possibly surprise them.

The place didn't look lived in, nor welcoming. It was filthy, and pieces of the wall were still crumbling. But, it had potential. If they were able to clean out each room, and find wood and brick from some of the other buildings, perhaps they could focus on one, and bring it back to life again. It would never be anything spectacular, but it could become home— if they put in the time and the effort. Only problem still left unsolved, was where they'd get their food and water supply from.

"Should we check the second floor?" Jason, a boy who was about Clarke's age pointed towards stairs— if they could even be called that anymore. They looked too risky to even attempt, but as Bellamy was about to put his thoughts into words someone or some_thing _flung itself onto Jason, who stumbled backwards and screamed the second it's mouth ripped into his shoulder. Bellamy didn't even hesitate to pull the trigger. It took one— two—- three times total, before the creature turned and hissed in anger, it's face distorted and red with blood. It dropped down to it's hands and feet before running up the stairs and disappearing behind the corner.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." A boy, maybe thirteen, said over and over again, his hands still shaking. Bellamy moved his gun onto his back before bending down to examine Jason's wounds. The boy was drenched in sweat and trembling beneath his fingers. He winced, when Bellamy touched the bite, that was at least the size of a tennis ball. It looked bad, and with whatever that thing was upstairs, it was time for them to leave.

The second they got outside, everyone became very much aware of the fact that Bellamy was carrying somebody.

"Jason!" A boy screamed from the crowd, running over to him and gathering him up in his arms where Bellamy had laid him down. "I told you we shouldn't have split up, you idiot."

Jason offered as much of a smile as he could.

"I love you too." He mumbled, and the boy holding him sighed in exasperation, and wrapped a piece of fabric around his boyfriend's shoulder.

Bellamy looked around, trying to find the one person that was very much needed in a moment like this. The one person, of all people, who would have listened to instruction. He had fired bullets. Everyone should be out here, yet…

There was no sign of Clarke. No sign of Murphy, either or the four that had tagged along with them.

Suddenly, Bellamy was running towards the building they were in, a bad feeling becoming far too comfortable, far too fast in the pit of his stomach.

**a/n: Soooo yeah. I kind of decided a few days ago that i'm crazy for Murphy/Clarke interaction, and I wanted to bring it in to my own story. I thought I'd might as well try developing a dynamic between them early on, so I'll have more to play with later. Hopefully there was enough bellarke hints, though I do plan on it being a bit of a slow burn (or not... I might not be able to handle that myself. like, let's be honest. If the urge to have them kiss becomes to strong, it is probably a thing that will happen earlier than I intended. I guess we shall see.)**


	3. Fight or Flight

The first thing Clarke became aware of, was the pain circulating her body. The worst of it resided in her head, where blood stained the ground beneath her. When she tried to move, a sharp gasp slipped through her lips. Her entire body ached, and for a second she could do nothing but lay there. Her eyes began to scan her surroundings. The light coming from where she fell was dim, but it allowed her to make out a few of the things around her, including the walls and pieces of scattered objects.

"Murphy?!" She called out, hoping with all hope he or the others would hear her.

No answer.

"MURPHY?!" She screamed, her heart picking up speed at the thought of being down there alone. They wouldn't have abandoned her, would they? She shook her head, trying to erase any irrational thoughts that attempted to scare her, and pushed herself to stand. The simple movement caused her to wince, and walking was proving to be far from easy. Lifting her flashlight up, she fidgeted with the on switch, bright light filling the spaces around her. She sighed quietly in relief at the fact that it was still working, and began to look around the room from where she stood.

At first she saw nothing but cabinets, and shelves, until a doorway seemed to appear out of nowhere. She stepped forward, dragging the leg that seemed useless for the time being. That's when she heard the sound of a low moan, which morphed into a high-pitched wail.

She froze.

Instinct told her to run, to hide, to get away. Ignoring the pain, she moved towards the door, her left leg almost giving out. Something skirted past her so fast, she stumbled, and landed on her back, crying out as her body responded to the sudden impact.

"Who's— who's there?" She shun her flashlight on different parts of the area, both desperate and scared to find who or what was in the room with her. Hesitantly, she started to stand again, fear distracting her from any pain she could possibly be feeling. She felt suddenly very alone. However, the moment she shun light on the farthest corner of the room, she saw a figure. It seemed to be naked, it's skin pulled tightly around it's bones. When it looked at her, her mouth hung open, it's face having clearly been damaged by radiation.

That's when it leaped.

It grabbed hold of her wrist, and she screamed, fighting against it's grip which was dangerously strong.

"Let go of me!" She demanded, her flashlight dropping to the ground and rolling across the room. Light danced along the walls, causing shadows to shrink and grow. With her free hand, Clarke reached for something on the ground, anything that could be of some use. Her fingers found a piece of wood, and she swung it forward with full force, smacking it into the thing's head with a loud, vibrating, crack, that Clarke felt in her very bones. The creature in front of her wavered, releasing enough pressure on her wrist to allow her to break free.

She scrambled to the door, practically ripping it off it's hinges before flinging herself down a long, narrow hallway. She had no idea where she was going, and the farther she got from the room, the less she could see, until there was no light at all.

The darkness was consuming.

A lump appeared in the middle of her throat, has she manoeuvred herself blindly, the sound of footsteps seeming to follow her wherever she went. At one point, she found herself against a wall and from there she searched frantically for a door. The second she felt one, she pushed it open, a dull light coming from a small window much too high for her to reach. She looked around the room, and when the sound of whatever it was following her, came closer, she hid as best she could, in what looked and felt like a large metal bin. She watched the door, as she crouched down, and when a shadow seemed to flicker by and double back she ducked. Slowly and silently she spread herself out until she was propped up on one side. That's when she felt something cold against her back. Turning her head, careful not to make a noise, she stilled, bringing her hand to her mouth at the sight of a dead body. The man's eyes and mouth were still opened, as if he had died screaming, and pieces of his arms and legs seemed to have been hacked off. She fought back the gag, reminding herself that she had seen far worse, and survived much more dire situations.

She would make it out of this.

The sound of the door opening caused her to think fast. Discreetly as she could, she rolled onto her stomach, and shifted underneath what remained of the man. She relaxed her body as best she could, took a deep breath, and held it, not daring to even breathe. The only thing she couldn't control, was her heart slamming against her rib cage. The damn thing was going to get her killed. The irony of that did not go over her head.

The thing (she had a hard time thinking of it as anything else, with such a lack of human qualities) moved articulately around the room, searching cupboards, and other areas hidden by the darkness. When it finally approached the bin, she waited. Waited to die, waited to live…she wasn't sure, until it walked away and left the room.

She exhaled, her hands trembling as she pushed the lifeless body off of her and climbed out. She wiped at her clothes and at her skin, leaving behind red marks as she tried to rid herself of the memory, and made sure the coast was clear before continuing back the way she had come. Perhaps if she felt her way down the opposite wall, she'd find another door.

It seemed luck was on her side for once.

Entering a new room, there was finally a window large enough for her to see that the sun had almost disappeared, leaving the sky a dark blue, sprinkled with pink, and purple and red. If she could find things to climb, she'd be able to get out.

When she began to push what looked like an old desk, her body cried out. It seemed as though her fall had done enough damage that all this running and hiding and only worsened her injuries.

At least she was still alive.

When she had the desk beneath the window, she looked for something smaller to add on top. It was a struggle carrying it, when her legs seemed weak and unable to endure such a simple task, but she pulled through, groaning as she slid it on.

The sound of something snapping, made her stop what she was doing.

"No, no, no, no, no." She said under her breath, so close to freedom she could practically taste it.

With nowhere to hide, and one object short of being able to reach the window, she whipped around looking for anything she could use as weapon. She found a broken piece of wood, much like the one she used to protect herself the first time, only pointer. Quickly, she put her back against the wall to the side of the door, lifting the wood in the air and bracing herself.

When the door opened, a bright light seemed to engulf her as she swung.

"What the fu—" Whoever was speaking, was cut off as the wood made contact with his shoulder. "Ow!" He yelled, lifting his flashlight next to his face, and on to Clarke, who's eyes widened when she realized it was Murphy.

"Oh my god!" She breathed, rushing toward him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Before he could even get the chance to hug her back (not that she was sure if he even would have) she pulled away, her hands having moved to his shoulders.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see you."

And then she was crying, an ugly sound bubbling up from her throat.

"Uh—" Murphy scratched the back of his head, unsure of what he was suppose to do. The only other time he had seen Clarke cry, was when he had been strung up, and when Charlotte jumped off that cliff— two times where he could care less about how she was feeling. Now…it was different. Circumstances had changed, he was beginning to care about these people, this girl in front of him who always seemed so sure of herself, so strong, and brave in the face of danger. Yet— here she stood, pale and bloody, her nose still red from the when the sun burned her skin, and an endless sea of tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I'm fine, i'm fine, i'm fine." She said over and over again, her voice shaking and her chest heaving. He wasn't sure who she was trying to convince, him or herself?

"Hey, hey— I know." He nodded, and she backed away, removing her hands from where she held onto him and nodded as well.

"We have to get out of here." She told him. "Help me lift one of these things up on top of those desks, and we can climb out the window."

"Why not just go out the way I came." He pointed toward the doorway. "I've got a light, and I know where the stairs—"

"No!" She interrupted him and he arched a brow.

"What? Why?"

That's when the high-pitched wail returned, only it wasn't alone. It seemed as though five, or even ten different creatures, were crying out, their whimpers echoing along the walls of every hall, and every room. The sound was utterly terrifying and sent chills throughout Clarke's entire body, numbing any pain she was previously feeling.

And it was only getting louder.

"That's why." She whispered and Murphy lifted his gun, backing towards her.

"Get on the desk."

"No, it's not high enough yet!"

"Get on the fucking desk, Clarke!" Murphy hissed, and she looked up at him before doing what he said. He followed closely behind, his finger on the trigger, and when they were both on the top, he reached up and smashed the window with the back of his gun, glass scattering along the wood and concrete.

Letting it go, it dangled against his chest and he grabbed hold of Clarke's waist, and began lifting her up the wall. She stretched her arms as much as she could, and when her fingers felt glass, she dug her grip into it, and gritted her teeth as she raised herself up. Her feet searched for something, anything to help support her, but it was Murphy's hands that ended up doing the trick. Soon she was half in and half out, careful not to stab herself in the process, and when she was safe against the warm, and cracked dirt, she instantly turned around and reached for Murphy.

He was taller than her, but the window was still too high for him. She leaned over the glass, ignoring the discomfort of it slightly digging in to her skin, and he lowered her arms to him, until his hands were in hers.

They began to work together to get him up, but when the silhouette of several creatures formed in the doorway, Clarke's grip faltered.

"Easy, Clarke." He was surprisingly calm as she bettered her hold on him, but when he looked over his shoulder and saw what was coming directly for him, his eyes told a different story.

"Let me go." He said quietly.

"What?! No!" Clarke shook her head, and pulled, glass having ripped through her shirt now and broken some skin.

He released his hold, and his hands slipped through her fingers.

"Murphy!"

"Run." He said, before jumping off of the desks and disappearing into the darkness.

The last thing Clarke heard was the sound of a gun going off.


	4. The Bite Is Worse Than The Bark

"What do you mean you just left her there?"

"Well, technically we didn't just leave her. Murphy is in there looking for her, and we came out here to get you." Lizzie explained, her nerves making it hard to meet Bellamy's stare.

"And, what? It takes four people to tell me this?!" Bellamy pushed past them and walked into the building they had be assigned to. When he reached the floor she had fallen through he shun a light into the hole, but saw nothing but pieces of concrete, wood and items that had been forgotten long ago.

"Clarke?!" He yelled down. There was no response, save for the sound of his own voice bouncing off the walls below, and after a few more tries, he started getting frustrated, angry…scared. Okay, so maybe it was the fact that he had no idea where Clarke was, and what else was down there with her. And if she wasn't alone then— Fuck, no. He was not going there again. He already experienced the feeling of thinking she was dead. It was not something he'd believe until he saw it with his own eyes, and even then— would he ever be able to accept living in a world where she no longer existed?

He hurried outside and called for Miller.

"Clarke and Murphy are still in there, they could be together, or they could be separated. All I know is Clarke is most likely injured and…" He leaned toward his friend, lowering his voice. "Something attacked Jason. It was human but… not at the same time. It went for him like he was a piece of meat. If there's more of them, then Clarke and Murphy won't be alone for long. I want you to come with me, but I understand if you'd rather stay here."

His eyes darted toward's Miller's, who lifted both brows, and offered a crooked smile.

"There's no way in hell i'm letting you go in there without me. Where's the fun in that?"

"I'm coming too."  
>Bellamy turned to find Octavia, gripping a large knife in her right hand. It had been her weapon of choice for a while now. Blood stained the tip, and it pained Bellamy to think of all the lives his sister had taken. Not that he blamed her. It seemed wherever they went, someone or something was always trying to kill them.<p>

"Octavia—"

"Clarke is in danger, Bell. I'm not taking no for an answer."

Bellamy sighed, running a hand through his hair, with a sad, quiet, laugh.

"Okay." He agreed, more than a little reluctantly. But how could he deny her this right? The two of them had a lot in common, something that revealed itself in moments like this.

"If anyone else would like to come, step forward now." He announced to the group, some of which were sprawled on the ground, and others huddled together nervously. The only people who stepped forward were Raven, Monty, Jackson, Lexa and Wick.

But he couldn't risk all of their lives. Clarke would hunt him down herself.

"Monty and Lexa, you two come with us, as for the other's…" He held up a hand when Raven opened her mouth to object.  
>"I need you guys here. Jackson— you're Jason's best chance right now of staying alive and Raven, you helped Clarke save Finn's life once. Jackson could use your help." He turned toward Wick.<p>

"I want you to keep everybody calm. After what happened to Jason, they're bound to start asking questions. Do not let anyone leave. We need to stick together. That said, if any of those things show up, do not hesitate to use the guns, but remember we're limited on bullets so—make them count."

"Will do, Captain." Wick saluted, and Raven rolled her eyes.

"Just bring Clarke back." She said, before heading toward Jason. She knew part of the reason Bellamy didn't want her to come was because of her leg. She couldn't move like she used to, and running was practically an impossibility. It's not that she considered herself useless— but it was moments like these that really brought down her spirits. What she wouldn't do to go with them. Clarke was her best friend down here. She couldn't lose her. Especially not after losing Finn.

Armed with four guns, and three flashlights, Bellamy, Octavia, Miller, Monty and Lexa made their way carefully through, what Monty decided to call, Area C. It took ten minutes to find stairs that went down instead of up, and with each step it creaked beneath them, until one gave out under Bellamy's foot. Miller caught one of his arms, and steadied him before he fell.

"Thanks."

"It's what I'm here for."

The other's, mindful of the now broken step, followed behind with small smiles plastered on their face. Lexa enjoyed seeing how everyone had one another's backs. It reminded her of the friends and family she left behind. She had not lived with the group up in the sky, but they took her in as one of their own, and she saw them for what they were now: Grounders. Monty, on the other hand, smiled because he was desperate to find humour wherever he could. Losing his best friend in the entire world (actually, the entire freaking galaxy) took a great toll on him, but he knew Jasper would come back from the dead just to smack him over the head if he didn't learn to loosen up every now and then. Seeing Bellamy almost fall on his ass was a moment to appreciate in the most loving of ways. Octavia felt the exact same way.

They started forward, three different hallways heading in completely different directions waited in front them.

"Well, shit. Area C did not look this big from outside." Miller muttered.

"How's that one saying go? Never judge a book by it's cover?" Bellamy smirked before turning left, heading in the direction he thought would be the most likely of being right. The hole where Clarke had fallen was to the left of the building, therefor it was the only way that made any sense. Sure, there was a possibility she had run through here, not realizing there had been a stairway. It all depended on whether or not she had a flashlight. He felt sick at the thought of her running through here in the dark, unable to see where she was going. Clarke was one of the bravest people he knew, but that didn't mean she didn't feel fear. It just meant she did what she had to do in spite of it. Something he admired her for.

As they moved, their shadows towered over them. Each time they passed a door, Bellamy would take a deep breath and open it, gun at the ready in case they had any unwanted company. It was very stressful, to say the least, heading deeper and deeper into a place they not only were unfamiliar with, but was dark, old and potentially filled with things that might very well want to eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner. A thought none of them were all too keen on. But Clarke would do it for them. They owe her that much. (Not that Bellamy even considered leaving her behind for a second.)

It was when they had looked in around four different rooms, that the sound of footsteps seemed to come out of nowhere. Each one of them turned around to look over their shoulders, and each one saw what stood there. It's clothing was ripped so much, it might as well have been wearing nothing, and it's hair was thin and scarce. It's mouth hung open, drool dripping from it's disfigured lips. Suddenly, without any warning, it threw back it's head and screamed. It was a foul noise, one that climbed under your skin, like finger nails on a chalkboard.

"Bellamy…" Octavia reached for her brother, her hold on her knife getting tighter. His hand took hold of hers and pulled her with him as he began to run.

"Go, go, go!" He called to the other's, and the second they picked up speed, so did the creature behind them. Lexa fired a few shots at the thing, but except for slowing it down a little, it didn't seem to be doing much damage. It wasn't until she got one in the head, that it fell over and stopped moving.

The five of them didn't slow down until they had no choice but to catch their breath.

"What the hell was that thing?" Octavia looked toward Bellamy, as though he'd know the answer.

"I don't know." He said quietly, lines forming on his forehead.

"I, for one, really do not want to find out." Monty held up his hands in the air. He did not sign up for this shit. None of them did.

"Yeah, well. At least we're still al—" Miller was interrupted by something dropping onto his shoulders from the ceiling. He stumbled backward and the second it's long, skinny, fingers wrapped themselves around his neck, he screamed, trying desperately to peel them away, but before Bellamy could even lift his gun, the sound of Miller's neck breaking vibrated through him. His eyes widened at the sight of his friend go limp, before falling to the ground. Monty almost fell over in shock, and Octavia cried out. In the end, it was Lexa again, who shot the thing in it's head, and when it fell, so did Bellamy as he reached for Miller's hand.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he whispered an apology over and over again.

"May we meet again." He finally said, before standing up and leading the others down the hall. A hall that seemed to come to an abrupt end, with only one door left. Motioning for the other's to raise their guns, Bellamy threw open the door and they all rushed inside. Before they could even look around, the door slammed shut behind them.

Startled, each one of them whipped around, expecting to find another one of those things waiting for them, but there was nothing. Monty slowly walked towards it, meeting Bellamy's gaze as if to ask ready? When he received a slight nod, he wrapped his hand around the door knob and pulled.

The door didn't open.

He tried again, and again, and again. Still it wouldn't budge.

"I think…I think they locked us in here." He whispered.

/

Clarke's entire body was shaking as she ran, the sound of gun shots still ringing in her ears. Murphy had sacrificed himself, to protect her. The same Murphy that once held a knife to her neck. She had always believed in second chances, but he had failed her then. Maybe— maybe he was always meant to have three. She passed the building, her people coming into view.

"Bellamy!" She called out, needing to hear his voice, and feel his arms around her. She never felt more safe and more secure than when he was standing by her side.

"Clarke?!" It was Raven who responded, Raven who limped over as fast as she could. Clarke wrapped her arms around the brunette, relieved to see her face.

"Murphy needs our help." Clarke's mind was racing a mile a minute. "He— he's still in there with these horrible, horrible things. Oh, Raven. You should see them. I don't— I don't know what they are. I don't even know if they're human. But they're awful, and…." She trailed off when she met Raven's eyes.

"What is it?" Clarke asked, looking around for Bellamy again. When she couldn't find him, she looked for Octavia, and Monty and Miller. None of them seemed to be there.

"Where are they?"

"They went inside looking for you."

Clarke felt like she was going to throw up.

"Oh, God." She brought a hand to her mouth and crouched down. Raven's hand rested against her back.

"It's not your fault, Clarke. We'll figure something out."

"We have to go in there, now." She stood up straight.

"I need a gun, and I need a least four or five people to come with me. They won't last long. Not with those things down there waiting for them."

"Okay." Raven nodded several times. "But I'm coming—"

The sound of barking seemed to roll along the dirt. It was odd and unfamiliar to the group that stood there. Most of them, having grown up in space, had only ever seen and heard a dog bark in old films they sometimes watched. This was different. This was in person.

When Clarke and the others walked past the buildings in hopes of getting a better view, it was the first time she realized that the sun had finally set and night had fallen upon them. In the distance she could make out movement, and when ten or more flashlights were lifted, light revealed what was coming directly towards them. Fifteen, maybe twenty dogs — some with two faces, other's bloody and disfigured, raced in their direction. The closer they got, the more deadly they looked.

"Oh my god." Clarke breathed.


	5. The Perfect Hunter

"Run to the largest building!" Clarke screamed as the sound of the dogs moved closer and closer. Startled cries traveled through the group, as everyone listened. Clarke pulled Raven's arm of her shoulder, and Wick grabbed the other, the two of them pulling her with them as quickly as they could.

When they reached the door one person after the other rushed inside as Clarke waited, wanting to make sure everyone was safe.

Only the dogs were coming, and when one of the boys who was helping Jason lost his balance and fell, so did Jason and his boyfriend. Jason cried out in pain as he made contact with the ground, his hand instantly reaching up toward his shoulder. His boyfriend was trying desperately to help him stand, and when Clarke yelled up for them to hurry— she realized they weren't going to make it. She took a step forward, and Jackson's hand wrapped around her wrist.

"You're not going over there."

"I have to hel—"

A terrible, heart stopping cry tore from each boy's throats as the dogs teeth ripped into their flesh. Blood spilled onto the dirt, pieces of their insides falling out and tears stung in Clarke's eyes as she watched the three of them getting eaten alive.

"NO!"

Clarke was pulled back, the door slamming shut in front of her, her hands violently shaking.

Jackson and Wick, along with several others, began pushing as many objects in front of the door as they could, but with the windows so broken, and the door barley standing, it didn't seem like they'd be protected for long.

Raven's hand reached for Clarke's and she tried to steady them. The blonde met her friend's gaze, and for a moment Raven gave Clarke that one second she needed to register what she had just witnessed, to be afraid, to grieve, and to take back control of the situation.

"We need to move away from the door." She called to the others.

"Should we get up higher?" Wick suggested, a few of the kids already starting to move towards the stairs.

"No. It might not be safe. Trust me, the floors aren't secure, and if those dogs come in here, we'd have nowhere else to hide. We'd be cornered."

"So what now?" A red head, maybe seventeen, by the name of Brianna asked, hands wrapped tightly around a gun. Her voice trembled a little as she spoke, and it was obvious by the look in her eyes, that she was absolutely terrified. They all were.

Clarke thought about the basement she had been in, remembered the creatures that roamed the hallways underground. There was a chance this building would be empty, but there was also a chance that it would have more. She counted their options, and there were few. Either they held their ground, and waited until the dogs came, or they found the basement door and left their fate up to chance.

Neither one seemed optimal.

But the moment they heard a low growl at the door, it was too late to make a decision. The second those dogs scratched and pushed at the broken, rusted metal that separated them, they poured inside, and guns went off in every direction. Dogs leaped and attacked, tearing and clawing at anyone in their way. When one was on top of Brianna, Clarke fired one bullet to it's head, and pulled the body off of the girl. Blood stained her arms, and the shirt she was wearing was torn to pieces, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"You're okay. I've got you." Clarke nodded a little before helping her stand.

"Clarke!"

Her name was called out by several different people. She looked around, desperate to help them, desperate to fight off these dogs, but it seemed like every time one was killed, another would show up in it's place. There were already bodies, still and lifeless on the floor, and every time a shot echoed through the building, that was one less bullet they'd have.

It seemed fate had chosen after all.

"We have to get to the basement!" Clarke cried out, grabbing hold of Brianna's hand, as she searched for Raven whom she found with Wick and Jackson. Everyone followed behind, some were lost to the dogs, others stayed back to hold them off as much as they could, but when there was no more time to spare, Clarke had no choice but to close that basement door.  
>She grabbed one of the empty guns and slid it through the handle. She didn't know how long it would hold, but it would at least give them the head start they needed.<p>

In the low dim of their flashlights, a quiet whimper settled over the crowd, along with the desperate sound of scratching on metal. Once she had moved everyone a fair bit down a hallway, she had everybody line up against the wall.

That's when she counted.

When they had arrived that afternoon, only mere hours ago, there had been thirty-five of them left.

With Bellamy, Octavia, Monty, Miller, and Lexa having gone off to look for her, and Murphy having sacrificed himself, that had left twenty-nine.

After what just happened, there were only twenty-one.

Clarke turned away, biting back the sob that nearly revealed itself. She had to stay strong— for them. She had to be brave.

She pulled Raven, Jackson and Wick a little away from the group.

"We might not be alone down here." She said, voice low so the other's wouldn't hear.

"What do you mean?" It was Wick, with that same curious expression that he always seemed to have.

"When I was stuck in the other building— I was attacked, and chased. It… it was like nothing I've ever seen. It looked human, but it was thin, naked, pale, disfigured, faster and stronger. I think it can even see in the dark better than we can."  
>"It's the perfect hunter." Raven whispered, and the words seemed to hang between them.<p>

"So what do we do?" Jackson asked, a question that had been on everyone's mind since they got there.

A question Clarke wished she could answer, along with those that concerned food and water (two things they were dangerously low on.)

"The one thing we excel at." Clarke said.

"Surviving."

/

Bellamy raised his flashlight against the darkness in front of them. Whatever room they were locked in, it seemed to go on forever. None of them were quite sure where it started, or where it ended, and even if there were any walls of sorts, boxing them in. It felt like the farther they walked, the more disoriented they got. Soon they weren't even sure if they were walking straight, or moving in circles.

It was very disconcerting.

"What if there is something in here with us?" Monty whispered.

"Then I'll shoot it." Octavia stated, one hand holding a gun and the other her knife. "And then cut it's damn head off."

Bellamy hated hearing her talk like that, but given the situation, they all had different ways of grieving and off letting off steam. Sometimes, letting it out was the only way if you wanted to move forward.

(He made a mental note to himself to hide all of her weapons when they were finally safe and settled.)

"That is oddly comforting." Monty said, and everyone could make out the small smile on O's face, in the dim light around them.

That's when a large hole seemed to appear in the wall in front of them.

Climbing into something like that, under normal circumstances would be difficult, let alone not knowing what could be waiting for you inside.

If they were anyone else, maybe they'd wait for help to come and find them, but they weren't.

"I'll go first." The tone in Lexa's voice made it known that it wasn't up for any discussion.

So they squeezed in, one after the other, with their guns and flashlights in front of them.

But when Lexa froze, her foot almost coming in contact with Bellamy's face, her eye's wide and lips parted, it was clear something was wrong.

"What is it? What do you see?"

Lexa's gaze searched the scene in front of her, few things having the power to to scare her speechless.

Just a few feet away, hundreds of those things that had attacked them earlier, slept, bones and bodies in piles next to them.


	6. Don't Forget To Look Up

In all honesty, Clarke wasn't sure what to do. The farther they wandered beneath the ground, the farther from the door they were, and with as many twists and turns that existed down there, it would be easy to get lost.

But if she didn't move them along, those dogs could break inside, and suddenly they wouldn't have the head start they desperately needed.

She ushered everyone down the hallway, ordering Jackson and Wick to watch the back, while her and Raven took the lead.

It was all about safety in numbers— exactly what Bellamy had said when they had arrived there. Even if they weren't alone down here, this time they had guns, flashlights, and each other. Perhaps that would be enough to keep them safe.

God, she hoped so.

She turned toward Raven, who looked absolutely exhausted. Dark circles outlined her eyes, and her face was coated with a layer of sweat and blood. She was limping, having done too much walking for one day on a leg that didn't want to cooperate. Clarke wished she had the power to make things easier on her friend, wished she could be of some relief— but there was nothing she could do, and speaking about it wouldn't help either one of them.

It's not like they had time to take a rest.

They needed to find another way out.

If there even was one.

Things stayed relatively quiet for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. In the distance a steady sound of steps seemed to come closer and closer. Clarke held a hand in the air, stopping everyone in their place, and proceeded to raise her gun. She looked at Raven from the corner of her eye, and mouthed the numbers three, two, one—

Raven raised her flashlight on whomever it was in front of them, and Clarke's fingers toyed with the trigger, until the light reflected in familiar eyes.

The figure was drenched, head to toe in blood, their clothing and skin having been ripped and clawed at.

"Murphy?!" Clarke could hardly believe it. She shoved her gun into Raven's arms, before rushing to his side.

"_Clarke…_" Her name came out in low groan, and without even really thinking about it, she took hold of his face in her hands, trying to check for any severe wounds that she'd need to be worried about.

"But…you…" She trailed off, her words quiet enough that only he could hear her. Her eyes stung with tears that were tempted to fall, and had anyone told her the idea of losing Murphy would have ever had this kind of effect on her, she might have laughed.

But now, him having risked his life to save hers— well, you can't do much better than that.

"You're really alive." She breathed, and he looked at her, like he didn't recognize who was standing in front of him, and that look turned to relief, but then, when he realized she was far from alone, that relief turned to confusion and confusion turned to frustration.

"What the hell are you doing? You know what's down here." He hissed so suddenly, that she dropped her hands and the group all turned to wait to see what she had to say.

"We had no choice. We were attacked by dogs."

"Seriously? Dogs?"

"Yeah, and not the cute, fluffy ones we saw in movies on the ark. People are dead."

"And what, it's safer down _here_?"

"Well, I had to take that chance, okay? It's a different building, I wasn't even sure if it was occupied like the— wait, a minute. This is a different building." She said again, looking him up and down. "How did you get here?"

Murphy ran a couple fingers through his hair, ignoring the blood on his hands.

"I just kept running."

His words were underlined with memories he did not seem to want to relive, and Clarke was almost too afraid to ask.

"So, each basement is connected then." Raven said.

"I guess so."

"Which means there's another way out."

"Yeah."

"But it also means those things you had to deal with before, are definitely down here with us."

"Yep, that too."

"Sounds peachy." Raven leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

"Couldn't have said it better myself." Murphy attempted to wipe at the blood on his face with the back of his hand. It was a little unsettling to look at him longer than a couple of seconds.

"Clarke." Brianna stood tall behind her but in front of the others. "Can you please explain to us what is going on."

"There are things down here that want to eat us." Murphy called out, and everyone took a slight step back, all talking at a different speed.

Clarke smacked Murphy's arm, and felt a little guilty when he winced, but now everyone who was already upset, were left even more scared.

"What? They have a right to know."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to say it like that."

"I don't have to say a lot of things like a lot of ways, but that's never stopped me before."

"Trust me, I know." She glared and suddenly the two of them were right back to where they started that morning. (Only, not really.)

"Can you two stop act like a married couple for five seconds? We need to decide what we're doing here." It was Wick, and Clarke had to fight the urge to punch his pretty little face.

"Hey— everyone is a little bit on edge. That's it." There was Raven, speaking words of wisdom. Clarke offered her a smile in return.

She wouldn't be able to do this without her.

"Look, we all need to calm down, focus, and most importantly, stay together." It felt odd to be the one giving the speech— she had done it a few times before, but it was always Bellamy who took charge when it came to inspiring the masses. He was a natural at it.

"I know you're all scared. Believe me, I am too. These things, whatever they are, they're dangerous and they're smart. So we have to be smarter. We have to be more dangerous. Think of all the things we've lived through. We've done it before, we can damn well do it again."

A few moments passed, before people began nodding and mumbling their agreement in what she had to say.

She gave a few more instructions as they once again moved along: Firstly, stay close to at least one other person, that way if you're separated from the group, you're not alone. Secondly, do not panic. Panic leaves room for making mistakes and thirdly, only shoot if you're sure your target is trying to hurt you. No one can afford to waste any bullets.

"Where's Bellamy?" Murphy asked, and Clarke could tell from the sound of his voice, part of him was worried.

"He went looking for me with Octavia, Monty, Miller and Lexa."

Murphy side-eyed her.

"I'm going to assume you're not happy about that."

"It's not like I can blame them. I was going to do the same thing for you."

Murphy almost stopped walking. Now _there_ was something he never thought he'd hear, not after everything he had done wrong.

Not from her, the same girl who wanted to blame him for Finn's mistakes, the same girl that wanted him to stay away from her, now was willing to risk her life for his? He knew he didn't deserve it, not that he wouldn't welcome it.

He was selfish that way.

Clarke looked over her shoulder when he didn't respond, smiling softly— and suddenly Murphy felt extremely protective of that smile, like if anyone or anything dared to steal it away from her, they'd have to deal with him.

And he'd show no mercy.

Things seemed quiet again— but it didn't feel safe, or pleasant. No, it was a cold, eerie kind of quiet, that climbed underneath your skin and burrowed itself into your very bones. A kind of quiet that exploited your worst fears, and used every single one of them against you.

And there was no escaping it.

Until those very fears came to life.

One moment they were moving at a steady pace, and the next, several things dropped from the ceiling in front of them, on top of them, and behind them.

Screams and cries of all kinds rang in Clarke's ears, her eyes widening as she watched one of the creatures shove Brianna against the wall, it's teeth ripping into her skin so fast, and so determined, that by the time she lifted her gun, she knew shooting the girl in the head would be the only thing she could do to help her.

So she did, swallowing back the lump in her throat as the girl's body slid to the ground, that thing falling on top of her moments after, as Raven shot it three times in it's own head.

Everyone had scattered, some were being held against the ground, others were in the same position Brianna had been in, but there were a few who had gotten some ways down the hallway.

Murphy yelled for Clarke to duck, and she didn't even hesitate, squeezing her eyes shut when she heard the sound of a gun go off above her, and something hit the ground with a loud thud behind her.

When she stood up straight, something grabbed hold of her hair, and she screamed, desperately trying to break free, ignoring the pain in her scalp as much as she could.

Raven, who was standing just to the side of her, smacked the creature directly on it's forehead with the bud of her gun, and kept smacking it until, it's legs gave in and it tumbled, it's already screwed up face, an even bigger, bloodier disaster, and then it stopped moving.

Someone began pulling Clarke down the hallway, and at first she resisted, until she realized it who it was.

"We need to go, Clarke." Murphy had gotten them past those things, but there were so many behind them, along with their people, she couldn't fathom going anywhere.

"We can't leave them." She whipped around, calling for Raven, but she could no longer see her friend.

She could no longer tell who was even alive or dead. She shot at one of things that were feeding on the ground, and it dropped against the very still body beneath it.

"Raven!" She screamed, but there was no answer among the sounds of whimpers, and chewing. Most of the group had run the opposite way, a few of the remaining creatures on their tail, while the ones that were left had focused their attention on Clarke, Murphy and Wick, who just finished killing one of them.

_"We need to go, now." _He said again, only this time, Clarke listened.


	7. Raj

Clarke's legs ached from running— the pain from her previous injuries only getting worse. She could hardly breathe, and when her exhaustion became far too difficult to ignore, she slowed down, before coming to a complete stop.

"Wait." She called out to Murphy and Wick, who seemed as though they could run forever, on legs that were not nearly in as bad shape as hers were.

Murphy walked over to her, his hand resting on her back, as she bent over to catch her breath.

"Are you okay? How is your leg? Can you still walk on it?"

"No, it's fine, and yes." Clarke stood, the warmth of Murphy's hand leaving just as suddenly as it appeared.

"We have to go back." She said, in a tone that left no room for arguing. They left people behind, including Raven.

_Raven. _

One of the only people, besides Bellamy, that kept her sane.

That kept her going.

She couldn't bare to add her to the long list of people she had lost. In fact, she was certain her mind, and body, wouldn't be able to endure it.

"We can't." It was Murphy, of course, but he didn't sound like his usual self. He seemed sad to have to disagree with her. Sad that he had to deny her such a thing.

That didn't stop Clarke from getting mad.

She stalked up to him, like a challenge, and he didn't back down.

"So, you just want to leave them to die then?" She knew that wasn't the case. It was all over his face, especially in his eyes, but he was an easy target.

"You're a _coward, _you know that? All you care about is yourself." She shoved him. "They need our help, but you don't want to give it?!"

Tears stung in her eyes, and she hit his chest with her hands over and over again as she continued calling him foul names— and he let her, before wrapping his arms around her and holding her as she relaxed against him and cried.

They stayed like that for a while, with Wick having thoughtfully turned away, feeling as though he were intruding on an intimate moment of sorts.

When Clarke finally separated herself from Murphy, she offered him a small, appreciative, smile, before wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.

"Look— we'll go back when we know we're not being chased. Those things are probably still on our trail, and you know that. We can't help the others if we're dead, Clarke."

He was right.

But that didn't make it any easier. She still felt like she was abandoning her family.

"So what's the game plan?" Wick asked, arms crossed over his chest, and back resting against one of the walls.

"We should probably get out of the hallway." Clarke suggested. The three of them wouldn't want to be out in the open, if those things decided to throw their kind of party again.

"Right." Wick nodded, biting his bottom lip in thought. He pointed his flashlight down the hallway, revealing a few doors.

"Should we each check a room?"

"No, Wick. We're not splitting up." Clarke felt like she was talking to her own child, instead of a friend.

"Yeah— stupid question."

The three of them threw open one of the doors, guns raised, but it was empty, save for computers screens, that covered one of the walls from top to bottom and a panel of buttons and controls that clearly no longer worked.

"What was this place?" Murphy's question hung in the air, unanswered.

It had been important, Clarke could gather that much, but what it was used for, well the possibilities were endless.

"It doesn't matter now." Wick mumbled, as he clicked something over and over again.

Clarke pulled out water from Wick's makeshift bag, and took a tiny sip. They had two containers full, which would prove to go quickly between three people— especially underground where the air felt damp but hot. They needed to savour what they had left.

She then took a couple of nuts and berries, and was sure to eat each one very slowly, her stomach momentarily thankful for the much needed nutrients.

Staying in one place for an extended period of time, especially under the circumstances, didn't feel right, and with those things literally dropping from the ceiling, nowhere felt safe.

She began rummaging through the room, looking for anything that could be of some use. Murphy was right behind her, not willing to be separated again, so when Clarke slipped on something, he caught her.

She looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest from the sudden lack of balance, and he looked down at her, his own picking up from the way she fit in his arms, the mere closeness of her face, and when his eyes flickered to her mouth, she noticed.

"Thanks." She smiled, before quickly standing, and shining her flashlight onto the floor.

There was a fresh trail of blood leading from her feet, down the room and into darkness.

"Holy shit." Wick muttered, and as Clarke started following it, Murphy grabbed hold of her arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" He shook his head hard. "When you see a trail of blood, you don't follow it."

"You do when it could be one of your friends." Clarke pulled herself from his grip and continued moving farther into the room.

She was so scared.

More scared than she had been when they went to battle with the grounders, when they tried to take down Mount Weather.

Those were people they were dealing with— down here, that was no longer the case. (God, if only Bellamy could be here right now, when she so desperately needed him.)

When her light revealed feet, she took a startled step back, before crouching down, and shining it onto the man's face.

He was covered in blood, his skin torn and cut, but what surprised her the most, was that he wasn't one of theirs.

Slowly, she placed two fingers against his neck, feeling for a pulse, and the moment she found it, a hand snapped up, it's fingers wrapping around her wrist, and the edge of a knife slightly digging into her throat.

She gasped, and Murphy aimed his gun at the stranger.

"Let her go."

Almost instantly, he did what he was told, before lifting his hands up in the air in surrender.

"Look, I thought she was one of them." His voice was low, and strained, as if he had been screaming for long periods of time.

"I'm going to stand up now." He lowered his arms, and tried to push himself up off the ground, but instead he gasped, and grabbed hold of Clarke for support.

"Hey." Clarke, placed a hand on his arm. "Let me look at you— I'm pretty good with that kind of thing."

She eyed Murphy until he lowered his gun, and then the two of them, along with Wick, lifted him and placed him on top of one of the panels. All three of their flashlights were set up around him, and that was the first moment the three of them got a better look at him.

He was tall, probably around twenty-one, his hair a mess of black curls, his skin a light brown and when she wiped away some of the blood from his face, you could tell he was handsome. (Just a mere observation, of course.)

"What's your name?" Clarke asked, as her hands searched him for any wound that might be of some concern.

"Raj." He told her, and then he winced, as she put pressure against one of his worse bruises.

"Sorry." She offered him a tiny smile, and he shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. If i'm going to have someone search me head to toe, I'm happy it's you."

Wick smirked, rolling his eyes, and Murphy looked annoyed, but Clarke couldn't help the slight blush that made it's way to her cheeks.

"Well, Raj— It's going to be hard to walk, but I don't think you're dying just yet."

"I guess it's my lucky day."

There was something mesmerizing about him, something that made it hard for Clarke to look away, leaving her feeling almost uncomfortable.

"Uh— so, how long have you been down here?" She asked as she stood and helped him sit up.

"Hours, days, weeks, months— I have no idea." He looked so tired.

"Well, how long you've lasted without water and food might help you with that." Murphy narrowed his eyes, his hands tightly secured on his gun. He didn't trust the guy one bit, and it angered him how fixated Clarke already was with the stranger.

It wasn't like her at all.

Raj offered a lopsided smile, but before he answered Murphy's question, he looked at Clarke, and the smiled dropped away.

"Aw, shit. My bad." He said, before reaching out, and wiping a trickle of blood off of her neck.

"I didn't realize I broke the skin."

Clarke hadn't realized it either.

"It's— it's okay."

She felt off, her mind a little cloudy.

Familiar noises echoed down the hallway, and the group of now four, all snapped to attention.

"We better get out of here." Raj stood as best he could. "There is a stairway over there— that's where I was heading before I passed out."

"And why should we listen to you?" Murphy walked up to Raj, but Clarke slipped in between them.

"Murphy, it's our only choice here, and you know it."

She turned and nodded toward the young man, who then asked if she could help him walk, and all Murphy could do was burn holes into the back of his head.

When they found the stairs went down, that's when Clarke grew a little wary.

"I don't know if it's a good idea to go farther down. We've got people back there— "

"What's your name?"

"Clarke."

"Listen, Clarke— those things are coming to _kill _us. But I know this place, I know how to get around it better than you do, and I know where to hide. I've got food and water downstairs, you've just got to trust me."

"We don't." Murphy pushed Raj's arm away from Clarke with his gun.

"Murphy—"

"What?! You can't honestly tell me you're buying this."

Before she could say anything, she started getting dizzy, grabbing hold of Raj's arm to steady herself.

"Woah— when's the last time you ate?"

"She had some food like thirty minutes ago." Wick said. "Some berries and nuts."

Raj placed the back of his hand against her forehead.

"She feels warm. I think she needs more than that, or she's just going to shut down. C'mon, Clarke. We can help each other walk."

She nodded, letting Raj lead her down the stairs, and Murphy was ready to punch the guy.

Something wasn't right here, and when they made it to the bottom, it felt cold.

Murphy watched from behind as Raj whispered things in Clarke's ear, and for a moment he was tempted to "accidentally" shoot him in the leg.

But he never got the chance.

Something grabbed hold of Wick, and dragged him down a hallway to their right. Murphy instantly chased after him, screaming for him to hold on.

"I'm coming man!" He called out, as Wick frantically smacked the thing in it's face repeatedly with a flash light.

Murphy would have shot it by now, but it was moving to quickly, and it was too dark to know whether he'd miss and hit Wick instead. It was when the thing tried to turn again, that Murphy got his chance, firing a bullet directly into it's head two times, where it released Wick's arms, and dropped on top of him.

Wick gagged, before pushing the creature off, and accepted Murphy's hand when he stood.

"Thanks for that."

Murphy nodded and the two went back to find Clarke and Raj….

Only they weren't where they left them.

"Clarke?" Murphy looked in every direction.

"Clarke?!" He shouted a little louder.

"What the hell? Where did they go?" Wick arched a brow, and all Murphy could see was red.

"I swear to God, if he hurts her, I'll slice his fucking throat with his own knife." Murphy spat, and Wick waited for him to make the first move, before the two of them chose a direction and started running.


End file.
